


our love spills blood

by wincestgoddess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Dark, Dark Sam Winchester, Dialogue Heavy, Enabler Dean Winchester, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Sam Winchester, teencest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:09:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28420716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wincestgoddess/pseuds/wincestgoddess
Summary: They all look at Dean, they all want to touch him.Sam can't stand for that.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 106





	our love spills blood

“You’re back early.”

“...Sam.”

“I know, I got a little carried away. I’ll clean it up, don’t worry.”

“Is that…?”

“The guy from the bar? Yeah.”

“Bad enough that we almost didn’t get in. You still have such a baby face. Did you really have to-”

“He looked at you. He _touched_ you.”

“I told him off.”

“I don’t care. He touched you. I don’t like it when they touch.”

“I know, baby boy.”

Sam’s bright smile was a little dimmer, a little sharper; his normally beautiful hazel eyes were shining with something Dean rarely saw but when he did, it made his breath catch. The jealousy, possessiveness, and utter _bloodlust_ in the boy’s eyes were enough to render him speechless. 

“Sammy…”

That same smile transformed into a pout before Dean’s eyes. Sam’s soft features called to him, his puppy eyes lured him closer until he was stepping right into his brother’s space, uncaring of the puddle of blood he knew he was stepping into, uncaring of the body lifelessly staring up at the two of them. 

Dean was a mere helpless sailor, falling victim to the siren’s song. The same song Sam had played for him ever since that first time a girl touched Dean a little too long, a little too flirty; the same song Dean tried to stop and the same song he inevitably always danced to.

“Don’t be mad at me. Please.” 

Skinny wrists wrapped around his neck as a lithe body crawled into his lap. Fingertips painted the back of Dean’s neck a bright crimson; the stranger’s blood providing the same warmth to his skin that Sam’s chest pressed against his own seemed to elicit. 

“We’ve talked about this.”

“I tried. I just… I get so jealous, Dean. They don’t understand you’re mine. None of them get it.”

“No one’s supposed to know.”

“Because we’re brothers and it’s wrong.”

“Hey. You could never be wrong for me.”

“Then why can’t I show them?”

“It’s a small town, Sammy. Imagine if word got back to Dad.”

“I’d kill him too.”

Dean would’ve liked to think Sam was kidding. He wouldn’t go to such lengths. But the intensity in his brother’s gaze, the barely noticeable clench of his jaw told a different story. Sam was willing to get rid of everyone that got in their way, everyone that _dared_ look at Dean with just a hint of desire. Dean was pretty sure Sam could pick up on it. He knew; and he minded. He minded a lot.

“You can’t.”

“I would. If he came between us, if he tried to stop us, stop what you and I have…”

“Hey, shh. No one’s putting a stop to us. I’m yours.”

“Forever.”

“Yeah, Sammy. Forever.”

“Don’t be mad at me.”

There it was. The whispered plea, the breath that grazed Dean’s ear and the bloodied hands that cupped his face. It was a request, a desperate prayer and a promise wrapped in breathy words. Because Dean knew; and Sam knew. Sam knew he was his brother’s downfall. His weak spot. 

Sam was infatuation and craving; long legs in the sun. He was devotion and adoration in bright hazel orbs. Most of all, Sam was intoxication and relentless _desire._

Dean was a man drowning. 

He found himself being awoken to kisses and lips that knew where to press, a tongue that knew which spots to caress and teeth that knew where they were wanted. A mouth would swallow him whole and when Dean buried his fingers in silky hair, in that moment he knew, deep down inside that he would kill too if anything took away this bliss. 

But both of them were consumed and sometimes overwhelmed and it fell to Dean to keep a good head on his shoulders. It was a heavy burden to carry. Sometimes he wished he could be as free as his brother. His baby brother with enchanting smiles and tantalizing hips when he lured men and women back to their motel room. His darling little Sammy who loved him unconditionally, who would use the knife Dean gifted him to cut their throats and chop their fingers and bask in their screams. 

Yet, someone had to clean up the mess. 

Someone had to put an end to Sam’s stringing of bodies. Unfortunately, that someone couldn’t be Dean. It would take a stronger man to resist, to chastise and punish; Dean was weak. 

“I’m not mad.”

“I do it for us. For you. You know that, right?”

“You like it.”

“They deserve it.”

“Sam, it’s wrong.”

“Aren’t we wrong in their eyes? You and I? Do you know how they’d stare at us if they knew? You said it yourself.”

“It’s different.”

“We’re not hurting anyone.”

“You are.”

“So you _are_ mad at me.”

Wheezing startled them both. Before the tears could fall, before Sam’s lip could quiver, the man in the room unbeknownst to them was clinging to the thread of life, barely holding on but still fighting. Barely alive but still staring. Sam could feel it and it pulsed in his veins, turned the numbing ice into fire, bubbling up his chest and threatening to spill. 

“Sam, don’t.”

“I have to.”

“Let’s just get him out of here. Bail. Pretend it never happened.”

“You had no problem cleaning them up before.”

“We can still turn this around.”

“We never have before.”

“Because I can’t stop you!”

“Why do you care about them? Don’t you care that _I’m_ hurting? Every time they look, or touch. Every time I can’t kiss you in public, I can’t love you like I want. Dean… it fucking kills me.”  
  
And god help him, but it killed Dean too. The way Sam’s voice broke, the way he choked and tears finally made their way down his brother’s cheeks, it absolutely destroyed Dean. It was greater than the fear and panic, it was bigger than the need to stop him from hurting people. 

His brain shut them all out when Sammy was involved. His heart just registered the pain and Dean ached to make it go away, he wanted to kneel and beg for forgiveness for ever causing him such pain. He wanted to take the knife and plunge it deep in the man’s heart if such an action would grant him redemption. 

Sammy was more than the feelings he evoked, Sammy was Dean’s salvation and Dean would do anything for him. Maybe it was time he stopped fighting it. 

“I care. Fuck, Sam, you know I do. You know you’re the only one that matters to me.”

Still in his lap, Sam reached up with one hand. He held Dean’s stare and brought up red fingers to trace over pink lips. And Dean let him. He opened himself up to whatever Sam wanted to give him. 

“Then watch.”

Easily, Sam’s body made its way back onto the bed. He picked up the bloody knife, unbothered by the mess. He briefly wondered where he’d gone wrong, what he had missed that this one was still alive. It wouldn’t matter for long. Not when he yanked the man’s head back, exposing his throat to their tiny motel room and to Dean’s eyes. Except Dean wasn’t looking at him; his eyes were fixed on Sam.

And they never strayed as his brother not only slit the man’s throat but plunged it deep inside. Neither boy blinked, neither looked away. The stranger choking on his own blood was secondary to the beating hearts refusing to back down. 

Green eyes had to watch, alert and focused as a sweet smile finally, _finally_ unfurled from tense lips. 

Dean wanted to weep. Not because he knew now that he was just as guilty, just as bloodthirsty but because Sam had granted him a lifesaver in the form of a smile. 

He would never take it for granted again. 

And maybe it pained his conscience to acknowledge it but when Sam beckoned him closer, wrapped himself around his body and demanded Dean fuck him right there, right in the bloody mess glistening under the shitty lighting; Dean knew he could never go back.

He knew he would _never_ be able to deny that request ever again in the future. 


End file.
